For the First Time, Rosario Cruz is Finding Herself Unprepared
by purrpickle
Summary: Santana has no idea how attending the Schuester wedding has turned into her seemingly about to have her first lesbian threesome with one of her oldest friends and one of her current roommates, but she'll figure it out. At least she won't have to worry about how it's going to effect things back in New York. Right? Entry for Pezberry Week 2014 Day One: Rewriting a Scene/Fixing Canon.


**A/N: **I don't own Glee nor the characters within. So, this is my entry for Pezberry Week #3 Day One: Rewriting a Scene/Fixing Canon. The plan is that there are going to be three parts, all of which are going to contain various combinations of Fapezberry: Pezberry, Quinntana, Faberry, and Fapezberry itself. Thanks!

* * *

It's nice dancing with Emily Stark from Hawaii, Rosario Cruz from Alaska thinks, pressing her chin into Emily's blonde hair. She fits pretty well against her body, not as tall as Brittany, and not as short as Rachel – a kind of in between. It's new and different and the alcohol in her veins is telling her _yes. Go for it_. Emily certainly seems into it.

Gently swaying them to the passable music courtesy of the rent-an-hour band filling in while the current and ex members of New Directions take a break, thin arms around her shoulders, Emily pulls her closer. "I like dancing with you," she says, as if she's still deciding it in her mind.

"You're not so bad yourself," Rosario answers, smiling as she pulls back as the music stops. "Refill?"

Emily smiles back. "Refill."

Ordering more of the same, clinking their glasses together, both women turn their back on the bar, looking over the crowd. Their arms are touching, and it's obvious they're both aware of each other, but it's Emily who speaks first. Leaning over, her warm breath washing over Rosario's ear, she grins, "Who do you think is going to hook up?"

Rosario smiles against the lip of her glass. "Who's _not_? Face it, Emily, this is a hotbed of illicit adolescent hormones gone rabid, stirred up by the impending terror of dying alone and unloved that weddings _always_ bring up." She makes sure not to look in the direction Sam and Brittany are in. Instead, turning her attention towards the stage, her eyebrows raise as she realizes Rachel's talking to the Frankenteen. "Would you look at that."

Emily's eyes roll. Her shoulder bumps into Rosario's. "We should stop that."

Taking in her sparkling hazel eyes, lips turned up, Rosario smirks as well. "For her own good."

Emily nods. "For her own good."

Only half surprised when Emily reaches back, tugging her hand into hers to lead her across the floor, Rosario Cruz from Alaska, more commonly known as Santana Lopez from Ohio, throws back her drink, tosses the empty glass at the bartender, and catches up to slide her arm into the crook of the more commonly known as Quinn Fabray from Ohio's arm.

They fall onto Finn and Rachel like a practiced duo of concerned friends, Quinn subtlety putting herself between the girl and her ex-fiancé, Santana pushing in closer to Rachel. "Fancy seeing you two together," she smarms flawlessly, catching Rachel's eye and winking at her, "Gonna bump uglies for old time's sake?"

Even though she looks a little irritated at getting interrupted, Rachel looks a little relieved, too. Having already sat through her rant about even if she's in an open relationship, she can_not _fall prey into sleeping with her ex-boyfriend, as that would not be conducive to fully moving on and living her life in the present with New York her only reality back in New York before they'd made their way over, Santana knows the girl really doesn't want to do this, hormones be damned.

The same way Santana would turn down sex with Brittany tonight, she thinks, heart panging as she catches sight of the blonde slow dancing with Trouty Mouth out of the corner of her eye, turning it into a reason to "innocently" brush the pads of her fingers along Quinn's palm, enjoying the shiver the blonde makes, eyes darting to her.

"Do you really want to go down that road?" Quinn asks bluntly, looking away from Santana to turn and face Rachel; her eyebrows quirk, and it's crazy attractive, seeing the "old Quinn" in her, "Tying yourself down even further to your past when you're safely on your way to your future?"

Frowning, opening his mouth, Finn's just about to protest, trying to shuffle around the two girls to press back in close to Rachel, but Santana's already ready to cut him off. "Is it really worth it, Berry? Spending an exciting three minutes under this sweaty giant when you could spend it, instead, with us, the two hottest bitches you know, getting gloriously drunk and bonding over insulting Mr. and Mrs. Schue's _terrible _vows and even more _terrible _reception?"

She knows it's not a trick of light that Quinn stares at her, lips parting, and a flash of heat travels straight down to Santana's core. _Well then_. Moving from Rachel's side, she presses herself into the other girl, wrapping her arm loosely around her waist. It's not like inviting Rachel to hang out for a while will dampen their evening. She lightly strokes her waist, satisfied when Quinn shivers again.

Oh yeah. Even busting balls, she's still got it.

"You guys are sad," Finn spits as he draws himself up straight, noticeably thrown by this turn of events, "Just because Rachel has someone here who she can spend the night with, and you don't, you feel the need to tear her away? You're just jealous.

"Rachel." He pushes his hand out, smiling hopefully at her, "You know you feel it too."

Staring at his hand, her eyes bright as color rises to her cheeks, Rachel's palms press into her thighs. "I…"

"You have one more chance to walk away," Santana says lowly to her, "Because after that, I'll feel no obligation to remind you what you said to me. If you really wants to get sucked back into the Green Giant's orbit, that's your choice." She pushes her hair away from her face, shrugging, "You're practically an adult, and all that shit."

She wonders when Quinn got such an intriguing perfume.

"Rachel?"

The moment Rachel's better senses kick in is obvious. Her shoulders drop, she sighs, and apologetic brown eyes turn to Finn. "I'm sorry," she whispers, body swaying as she thinks about taking his hand and then thinks better of it, "Even though we share explosive chemistry, and have stirred up old feelings whilst singing, Quinn and Santana are right. I owe you more than giving you false hope." She smiles sadly. "I'm with Brody, Finn, and though we may be in an 'open relationship', you and I both know that if we fall into this old routine, we'll never be able to make our own lives."

Finn's lips part. "But…" he blusters, already losing the fight, voice trembling, "You and me… We're Finchel. We'll _always _be Finchel."

"Then we can wait." Rachel tries to smile again, "When the time is right, and we're not just taken over by emotions o-or nostalgia, we'll happen again. We…" She takes a deep breath, eyes flicking quickly over Quinn and Santana before meeting Finn's again, "We'll have our time. Now, is just not it."

There's wounded silence, Finn's shoulders waver, his hands clenching into fists, but he suddenly nods, deflating. "You're right," he husks, shaking his head, "I-I'm going to go over and talk to, uhm, someone else for a while. You…" He smiles, barely, just a quick jerk of his lips up, "T-take care, alright?"

Rachel has tears in her eyes as she nods. "You too," she calls back quietly, the tall boy already striding away, hands jammed into his tuxedo jacket. When he disappears into the crowd, she's already swiping tears away from her eyes, hiccupping softly, suddenly surging into Santana's arms.

Having to pull away from Quinn to take hold of her smaller roommate, Santana can't deny that her heart twists as she feels the shuddering release of reality leaving Rachel's body. "Shh…" she whispers, "You're cool. You're good. He's just a boy."

"A boy who doesn't deserve you," Quinn adds, a hand stroking along Rachel's back. When Santana gives her a raised eyebrow, she rolls her eyes but gives a ghost of a smile, "I've always told you you were meant for more than Ohio and Finn. Think of this as your first test for growing up."

Rachel's large nose presses into Santana's collarbone, but because she's not leaking snot, Santana puts up with it. "Did I do the right thing?" the smaller girl asks, "E-Even if I'd planned on not s-sleeping with him, when is it… When is it going to stop hurting?"

Santana lifts her head, meeting Quinn's eyes. "Well…" she starts, squeezing Rachel's waist, knowing she's drunk enough when she likes the feeling of her body pressing into hers, "Getting drunk with us'd be a good start."

"With you?"

"Yeah." Quinn grins. "With Emily Stark and Rosario Cruz."

Rachel frowns, pushing back. Keeping her arms around Santana, she furrows her brow. "But… I don't…"

"Got'cha covered." Releasing Rachel and taking a step back so Quinn can take over the task of hugging her, Santana triumphantly reaches into her purse, pulling out the fake I.D. she'd ordered for the hell of it. Having used the photo Rachel had given her during senior year to put in her locker, she smirks as she hands it to Rachel. "You are now," she grins, "Idina Chenoweth from Maine. I figured Barbra would be too kitschy."

Rachel's incredulous squeal, lost in the beginning strains of Mercedes' solo, is finished in Santana's girls.

* * *

By Idina's third cosmopolitan, she's comfortably ensconced in between Rosario and Emily, chattering nonsensically as Finn and the rest of the original New Directions walk around them. No one, besides Puck and Mike, who had gotten fake I.D.s of their own, had bothered to bother the three, Mr. Schue only rolling his eyes and raising his beer at them, the new Mrs. Emma Schuester opening her mouth but deciding against it when Rosario and Emily had risen to talk to her, pushing a new flute of champagne into her hand. They're nineteen, Rachel's newly eighteen, and it's not like they're going to drive.

As well as, Rosario smiled at her, it's not like Emma has to be responsible for them. Enjoy the party. The food and the alcohol and Will dancing her around the room.

Finally giving in, Emma only asks Rosario and Emily, obviously more versed in the effects of alcohol, to watch after the smaller girl.

"Of course!" Rosario laughs in response, nodding in agreement as Emily compliments her on her reception change of clothes, "We're not _heartless_!"

"Who's not what?" Idina giggles, catching the end of the conversation, stumbling off of the bar seat to sweep Emma into a giant hug, barely waiting to say, "I am going to hug you now!" before wrapping her arms around her. "You're so _beautiful_, Mrs. Schuester! I hope you're having a _wonderful _evening!"

A little frozen, Emma gently hugs the woman back. "I am," she smiles, taking a step back as Rosario and Emily snicker, content to go back to sitting at the bar, sipping their drinks, "And I hope you are too."

Even though a shadow passes over Idina's eyes, the woman nods. "R-Rosie an' Emily're taking _such _good care of me! _So _much better than Finn could!" She leans in, her hand in front of her mouth, as if she's sharing a secret, "I don't have to worry about my boyfriend getting _jealous_, you know?"

"Boyfriend?" Emma gives her a curious look. "You're not dating…" She looks helplessly at Rosario, "…Her?"

Rosario chokes on her drink. "_What_?"

Emily's eyes fly up from where they had been focused on Rosario's chest. "_Are you_?" she hisses, not quietly at all, "I have to say I'm curious…"

Slashing her hands out, in cutting motions, Rosario vehemently shakes her head. "No! No. She has a boyfriend." She blinks. "And I, I'm not interested." Taking in Emily's skeptical look, she scowls at her, "I'm not!" Bucking her hips to make her barstool screech towards her friend, she softly curls Emily's bangs behind her ear, her fingers brushing along her cheek. "You're beautiful," she changes the subject.

Emily blushes violently, and she laughs, knocking her knees against her. "And you're transparent," she smiles, but doesn't look away, "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are…?"

"Not that I remember," Rosario responds cockily, her heart thumping in her chest as she moves forward, enjoying watching Emily's eyes fuzz out and focus on her, "But it's not like I'd turn you away…"

They smile goofily at each other, influenced by the alcohol in their stomachs. But, just as their lips seem like they're going to meet, Idina's arms wrap around their shoulders, the smaller woman's body wedging between them. "Are we," she swallows, weaving and trying again, hands tightening around their necks, "Going to take this somewhere else?"

Her eyelashes flutter, the flush of alcohol making her cheeks an attractive pinkish color – or at least as pink as her olive skin can show. Not for the first time, Rosario finds herself lost in trying to figure out her heritage.

Emily pulls back, looking at her. "You want to…" she starts, working her jaw, a gleam in her eyes Rosario hasn't seen before, "Take a bottle of alcohol into a hotel room and…" She licks her lips, red lips turning up again, "See where we go?"

Rosario stares at her. She-_she's_ the lesbian, right? What the hell is this?

But Idina is already bobbling her head excitedly, arms tightening around the other two woman's necks. "Let's _do_ it!" she exclaims, white teeth flashing, pulling both women into her, having already forgotten Emma slipping away, "I'm having too much fun to cut this short!"

Rosario's heart thumps again. She stares back and forth between Emily and Idina, a wide, wide smile snaking across her mouth. "Well," she breathes, _not _squeaking, unceremoniously snatching the almost full bottle of vodka out of the bartender's grip and slipping off of the barstool, pulling Idina and Emily after her, "Who am _I _to stop natural progression?"


End file.
